


Pockets Full Of Stones

by axumun, casey270



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axumun/pseuds/axumun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey270/pseuds/casey270
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nightmares don't start quietly. They take over his world in a heartbeat, changing everything he thought he knew about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pockets Full Of Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



> Written for this glam_kink prompt: _One of my favorite fic tropes is mpreg, and, several times, I've started thinking that it could make an awesome horror idea. So, that's what I want. One day, Adam discovers he's pregnant, in a world where men cannot carry babies. He freaks out, his doctor advises him to terminate the pregnancy for his safety, and he agrees. But they can't get rid of it, and afterwards, that fetus? Is angry. On every scan, it looks like a normal baby, but it proceeds to make Adam's life pure, painful hell, and he has to carry this probably-not-human creature until the end. ...Adam, I am so, so sorry, and I promise I am totally a berty bert who berts. /o\  
>  Whether he's paired with Sauli (I kinda want this to be more current-reality based), an OMC, or no one at all is up to the author, and I don't care what Adam ends up giving birth to or how he/they finally deal(s) with the problem. One thing, though: don't kill Adam. Angst, gore, horror, creepiness - no problem. Just no character death._
> 
> The wonderful and amazing casey270 wrote this with me, and it was a really fun experience, even if the subject matter was really fucked up.  
> 

The nightmares don't start quietly. They take over his world in a heartbeat, changing everything he thought he knew about himself.

The first time it happens, he sees himself laid out on his very own bed, an unseen audience vaguely whispering words he can't quite make out. He can't focus on much; his mind's fuzzy around the edges, his body lethargic.

He feels people -- things? he's not sure what the fuck they are -- poking him, prodding him. They explore him, invade him, judge him. He feels filled up inside, and it's like having ten thousand snakes writhing under his skin. It makes him feel dirty somehow, like he's being used. He knows it has to be a nightmare, but he can't wake himself up. He tries and he tries because it fucking _hurts_. Dreams, nightmares - whatever - aren't supposed to hurt, right?

But he feels his insides being twisted, rearranged, and it hurts like hell. It burns and it bruises, and he can swear he feels the warm tickle of blood running down his skin, but still he can't escape.

He sees more of the shadow creatures coming towards him, and tries to flinch away. His body won't let him, though, anymore than his uncooperative mind will let him awaken.

It's just too fucked up to watch these unknowns tear him apart, so he tries to close his eyes, but when he feels something cold and hard sliding right up inside of him, his eyes fly open and he screams.

He thinks the scream should be enough to wake himself up, but this nightmare doesn't go away.

Adam sees everything then. He sees the shapeless shadows reaching between his legs, sees how they manipulate the whatever-the-hell it is that's tearing him up from within. He sees the skin of his belly stretch and bulge as something shifts below the surface. He sees needles piercing his skin, feels them going deeper and deeper. He sees the hands, or whatever the fuck they are, pinching and pulling at him to guide whatever the fuck it is to its destination.

His mind twists and pulls and screams, trying to get back to reality, but still it continues. He's sure that he's breaking in some way, but he doesn't know if it's his body or his psyche that's coming undone.

At some point, he retreats to a dark corner of his mind, away from everything, and wonders at the impossibility of a fantasy within a nightmare. He's detached from whatever's happening, and, while he knows that his eyes are still open in the nightmare world, he sees nothing but the calming blackness. He'll stay here forever if he has to. He'll do anything to escape the hell of this dream.

*

Waking up feels like a chore in itself. His whole body aches - and it's not the comfortable ache his body has become accustomed to, it's fucking _pain_ ; a painthat's not bad enough to restrict his movements but just bad enough to ensure that he's always aware of its presence.

He doesn't dare to pay it any attention - his mind feels far too weak for such thoughts. Instead, he focuses on the sunlight pouring through the window, the warmth of the blankets his body's wrapped in, and he forgets that there was ever any pain in the first place.

Adam can hear the call of morning birds coming from the open bedroom window. He swears the scent of coffee brewing pulled him from wherever the nightmare had pushed him.

His thoughts are clouded, covered with vaguely remembered shapes that are fading quickly in the light of day. He needs to wash all the reminders of the nightmare away. After a shower, everything will be okay.

Standing up, Adam's hit by a wave of vertigo and almost falls back to the bed. He blames the lightheadedness on the blood rush of sudden movement, but he unconsciously takes more care as he makes his way to the shower.

When the spray of hot water hits his skin, Adam revels in the warmth. There's an icy coldness inside of him, and the heat and steam of the shower are just what he needs. He doesn't realize how long or how hard he's been scrubbing at himself until he looks down and sees the tender skin of his belly going from pink to red.

Before he knows exactly why he's doing it, he checks the skin there for signs of needle punctures. Something somewhere inside of him needs to prove beyond a doubt that last night was just a dream.

When the shower's done, Adam doesn't notice his uncharacteristic choice of clothing. The loose sweats and over-sized tee just look comfortable, and he needs comfort today. He doesn't notice how his hand keeps returning to rub small circles on his belly, either, trying to soothe an unknown irritation.

*

There's no pain anymore. Physically, Adam's light as a feather, which is somehow scarier than the ache, but he'll take it.

His mind's floating, and he's lost somewhere in another world, somewhere on the edge of insanity. He hears Sauli's voice through the fog, knows he's chattering on about something-or-other like he always loves to do, but he can't make out any words. Adam usually loves to listen to Sauli speak, but maybe it's the question that colors his voice that almost makes Adam purposefully tune him out.

Gently, Sauli props Adam's chin up with a finger, and rests the back of that same hand against Adam's forehead. Adam meets the worry in his eyes head-on, still a little fuzzy.

"Adam," Sauli says softly, carefully. "Adam, what is wrong, my love?"

Adam shakes his head a little and tries in vain to form words, to tell Sauli that he's fine, maybe just a little sick, and really, really tired.

Sauli leaves him for a moment, and when he comes back, he lays a comforting hand on Adam's shoulder and sets a cup of coffee in front of his face, made just the way he likes it. He's laid out quite a feast for breakfast - which he never does - but Adam only reaches for a muffin to start (whole grain, obviously). He'd tell Sauli he's not hungry if it wouldn't belittle the effort Sauli must've gone through to cook all of this food.

"You didn't seem to be sleeping," Sauli says as he takes his seat at the table. "Bad dream?"

"I think so," Adam answers as his mind clears a little more. The pain that's slowly returning is the price he pays for it. _I think so_ is better than what Adam had _wanted_ to say: _I hope so_. "I'm probably just a little sick."

"Your temperature seems fine," Sauli returns, and Adam almost finds himself laughing, but he bites his lip instead. He's making Sauli worry. Sauli's just not Sauli when he worries. It makes him lose that little sparkle in his eyes that Adam's so used to seeing.

A painful silence falls over them as they eat, and Adam desperately looks for a way to break it, especially as Sauli steals those anxious little glances, like he wants to make it better, but it's something he just can't do.

*

The pain is pretty much gone, but Adam still feels as if there's a knot somewhere in his stomach. Whenever he stretches or twists a certain way, his body protests, and the ache is back, if only for a moment.

That rules out the cold, anyway. For now.

Only hours later, Adam's noticeably better, and all of the uncertainty leaves Sauli's eyes. Adam reminds himself to never take his usual smiles for granted again.

Promo means interviews and performances. Talking. Questions. Phone calls at ungodly hours of the morning. It means his time with Sauli will be cut short. Again. At least phones make that part a bit easier.

It doesn't take long to get back into the swing of his busy schedule.

Much like Adam's physical affliction, the dreams have stopped, too. Mostly. Sometimes, in his deepest sleep, his mind creates endless illusions and distorted images he won't remember in the morning. He always wonders about them, even though it's pointless to pay them any mind. He tells himself that they have no meaning, though part of him wants to dig deeper into those dreams.

About a week passes before all of that changes.

The dreams become nightmares again, and hit him full force. The knot in his stomach becomes a burn, scorching his entire body from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers. His eyeliner can't hide the circles forming around his eyes.

Lightheaded and aching, Adam sincerely thanks the universe that he's not performing today. He has an interview to do, though. _Televised_. Luckily, he's got a few hours until then; maybe he'll be able to get his head back on straight.

By the time he has to face the cameras, though, he's not much better.

The audience's throbbing, eager energy is a welcome slap in the face, and he manages to sit down without stumbling. But when questions are thrown at him, questions pouring from the mouth of a not-so-familiar interviewer, Adam's brain sort of scrambles.

He picks up on every other word, and hopes the answers tumbling from his lips don't make him sound like a complete ass.

The pain's gotten so bad it's distracting, and he seriously wishes for a way to tell everyone he's just not feeling so great right now, and he'll be happy to do this again in the morning.

He sighs with relief when his segment is over, but he feels as if someone's driven a knife deep into his belly, and just standing up and leaving the set is almost too much for him to handle.

Someone grabs his shoulder and asks if he's okay, and usually, he'd smile and nod, but he's _really not okay_.

He takes a few steps forward, and his last thought before he blacks out and hits the floor is: _maybe I'm lucky, and this isn't being filmed right now._

*

Adam’s moving, but he's not sure of the _how_ or _why_ , not sure where he's going. It's almost like sleeping on a tour bus, but his mind can't accept that. He needs to know what’s happening now, because he sure as hell doesn’t understand what happened before. All he really remembers is pressure and pain -- enough of both to take his breath away.

He tries to get up, because maybe then the world will stay still long enough for him to focus, but he’s restrained. He’s tied to the moving bed somehow, and that shit’s too much like what he remembers of his nightmares to be anywhere close to comfortable in his mind.

He hears a voice saying, "It’s okay, son. You passed out. We’re taking you to the hospital to find out why." The voice calms him, because it’s a _voice_ , something he knows, not just sounds that he can’t make any sense of. Voices are good, voices are real, voices are _human_ , he tells himself. Human voices keep the nightmare world away.

He feels the moving stop and hears the metallic grating of doors being opened before a drift of fresh air reaches him. There are jolts and bumps and confusion as his bed starts moving again, and he pieces them together with with what the voice told him.

He opens his eyes, because it’s important for him to be able to put a face with that voice, and not just some shadowy outline, but he can’t seem to find who the voice belongs to. He’s surrounded by people, every one of them talking at the same time. Their words slur together, and he can't make sense of them. He hears someone say something about room three being ready, and his mind supposes that means it’s ready for _him_.

He’s moving again, down a corridor full of doors that lead to who-knows-where. The mystery that those doors hold frightens him. The smell of disinfectant burns his lungs with each breath he takes. He’s never been afraid of hospitals before, but something in the pit of his stomach twists in protest.

He watches the ceiling since he can’t stand to look at the doors, and counts five, six, seven overhead lights. They're bright enough to keep the darkness away, but they throw shadows against the walls as Adam passes, moving and stretching and reaching as each light nears and retreats overhead, and Adam can’t escape the memories they pull from his mind.

He can feel droplets of sweat breaking out along his hairline, and his breath is coming in short gasps. Panic pulls at his mind, speeding his heart rate. He knows he has to find a way to calm down, but he can’t seem to find an anchor for his rising anxiety. He needs something, someone to bring him back before he gives in to the unwarranted terror that’s building in him. He needs someone to hold him and tell him he’s safe, someone to bring back his connection to reality before he slips over the edge.

He needs Sauli.

*

There's a light; just a tiny shimmer in an endless, suffocating darkness, and Adam pushes through the black to reach it. Maybe it'll save him, put out the fire that's scorching him to the marrow. He blindly follows it as he falls helplessly, and keeps falling, spiraling endlessly but still walking ever forward, mindlessly and without fail.

Through the haze, through his mind's deafening chant of _get up!_ and _go!_ and _don't stop!_ , a voice reaches him, calm and even. Familiar. Beautiful.

The light is forgotten, and he watches it disappear.

Suddenly, Adam's torn between marching ahead and letting himself fall.

He does neither, and finds the strength just to _float_ , watching the darkness fade with the light, leaving nothing. No color, not even the absence of color, barely enough room to open his eyes. No sound, no vision, no voice, he's trapped in a world he doesn't understand, and finds that it's not so different from his own.

Adam remembers what he has left to fight for, though; what - _who -_ he has to protect, and a face passes through his mind, matching perfectly with the voice just out of his reach.

He remembers, and he _knows_ , and he finds himself becoming the very light he'd been chasing as his own world returns.

*

Who knows how long it's been? Hours? Days? Weeks?

The voice fades in and out, here for a while, gone again. After some time, he's able to feel a soft, warm hand squeezing his fingers, and something flutters inside of him, separate from the ever-present pain.

There are flashes of white, and the sounds replaying in his head make him question whether or not the voice he hears - the voice he longs to hear - is actually real. Memories caress him, kiss him, burn him.

Suddenly, everything clicks into place. Every cell and nerve in his body seems to flare to life again, and he feels his eyes flutter open until he's gazing back at Sauli's stunning face, so full of hope and wonder and _love_ , everything that he's been missing, everything he needs.

Adam sees tears forming in Sauli’s eyes, and the lines of worry surrounding them. He hates knowing he’s the one who put them there. His throat is dry, and he doesn’t trust his voice, so he squeezes Sauli’s hand in reassurance. Sauli’s glistening eyes brighten immediately as he says, "You are back. I was so worried. They would not let me come here with you, and I did not know what was happening."

Adam sees the glass of water sitting on the table near his bed, and motions for Sauli to hand it to him. He doesn’t quite trust himself to pick it up without spilling it. After taking a sip, he finds his voice is working again. "I’m sorry I put you through this. I’m sorry you had to worry, but I’m so glad you’re here with me. I never felt so alone before."

"I will never leave you alone," Sauli says, and leans down to kiss Adam’s forehead just as the door opens.

The man who enters plucks the chart from the back of the door and immediately starts going through it. Something about the way he seems desperate to distract himself from the simple display of emotion sets Adam on edge.

Without even looking up from the papers, he says, "I’m Doctor Peters. I’m the ER attending tonight. I have a few questions that I need absolute honest answers to, so we can determine what caused this episode, Mr. Lambert."

"Ask whatever you need to," Adam says, "and I’ll answer. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s scaring the hell out of me."

"I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of," Dr. Peters says, and Adam swears he sees the doctor roll his eyes. "We see cases like this more often than you’d think. A little fame, a little money, and people think they have to walk the fast edge. I think we’ll get the most definitive answers from the toxicology reports, but I have to ask you about it, too. Tell me about what's been going on in your life, and what you think may be causing this."

"I think I see where you’re trying to go with this," Adam says, "and I’ve never been a saint, but this is something else, entirely. For the last week, something’s been wrong. I’ve had a pain in my gut that never completely goes away. I have trouble sleeping, and I’ve taken sleeping pills a couple of nights for that, but nothing else. I know I’ve had some pretty fucked up nightmares, but they’ve got nothing to do with drugs."

Sauli holds Adam’s hand tighter because he’s been through this with Adam. He’s seen the pain flash across Adam’s face, pain Adam tries his best to hide. He’s felt their bed moving with Adam’s thrashing when Adam's nightmares come; nightmares he doesn’t remember in the morning. He’s seen how little Adam’s been able to eat in the past week. He’s been through it all with Adam, and he fears for Adam’s health and his safety.

"I have seen him doubled over in pain, Doctor. He tries to hide it from me, but I have seen it," Sauli says earnestly. "I have been with him almost every minute since it began, and he does not lie about not taking drugs." Sauli looks into Adam’s eyes before he continues, because he can feel Adam’s need for validation. "Whatever is causing this is not something Adam has done to himself."

"We’ll just do a quick exam," the doctor says. "I don’t want to discount patient concerns, liability laws being what they are, but I still think the blood tests will show us the real reasons for this." Doctor Peters slips on a pair of latex gloves and says, "If you would pull up your shirt and lower your pants, we can begin."

When the doctor puts pressure on Adam’s stomach, Adam’s whole body tenses in pain, but when the pressure reaches the spot that’s been giving him trouble all along, Adam can’t hold back the scream that blocks out everything else that’s happening around him.

Suddenly he’s somewhere else, somewhere unimaginable. He _feels_ the landscape around him, rather than seeing it. Everything is total dissolution, nothing to hold on or anchor himself to. There is no center, no edge, only chaos. He sees the shadow figures of his nightmares slipping past him, and he feels their misery. He feels the torment of torture all around him, and he hears voices crying out in pain. One voice, one word is heard above the others: a small voice and a plaintive word: _please_.

*

As quickly as Doctor Peter’s hands had applied pressure to Adam’s abdomen, they withdraw when he sees his patient go rigid, eyes glassed over and unseeing. Adam’s hand tightens around Sauli’s, squeezing like an iron vice. Sauli looks questioningly at the doctor, panic showing on his face.

"You see, his pain is real. What did you do to bring him so much?" Sauli’s usually calm nature is already on edge, but seeing someone cause so much suffering for the man he loves pulls at his protective nature.

"Nothing out of the norm for a standard examination, but I definitely felt something in there," Dr. Peters says, and maybe he’s a little defensive, but he would swear that he not only felt something that shouldn’t be there, but he felt something _move_. "I think the best thing to do now is to schedule some scans, ASAP. We need to see what we’re dealing with here, but whatever’s in there can’t be good for him."

"May I accompany him?" Sauli asks, looking at Adam’s face, still contracted in pain. "I promised I would not leave him alone again."

"You can stay with him while we administer the contrast IV, but not for the actual CT, no," the doctor tells him while checking Adam’s statistics. "We’re already walking the line with visitation rights. When he goes down for the scan, he’ll have to go alone."

*

Adam drifts through the confusion and pain that surrounds him, and still the small voice calls to him. He’s trapped between two worlds, but feels as if he’s closer to the shadow world of his nightmares than he is to the safety and love left behind in the hospital room.

He’s pulled further into the aether of the dream world by the childlike voice he can’t escape. It calls to him, and as much as he wishes to return to Sauli, he’s incapable of ignoring it. He searches the congested nothingness, trying to find this compulsion and satisfy it so that he might return to Sauli while he still can. Something tells him that this is not only an imagined place of his nightmares, but a world in its own right, and it’s not a world in which he wants to be trapped.

Adam feels a prick in his hand, and a warmth spreads up his arm and across his chest. The heat moves throughout his body, and intensifies in his gut. He hears the small voice crying out, over and over, only now it’s not pleading, but shouting its pain.

*

Sauli watches as the nurse finds a vein for the IV and starts the drip.

"Does this hurt him?" he asks, knowing that the idea of Adam being in even more pain is something he doesn’t really want to face right now.

The nurse, who shows more compassion and understanding than the doctor had, smiles at Sauli as she says, "People tell me it warms them, but no, there’s no pain." Reaching over, she lays a hand on Sauli’s shoulder and tells him, "Don’t worry, we’ll do whatever we can to make him well."

Sauli’s gives her a quick smile and a word of thanks before turning his attention back to Adam. He can’t stand to see him like this, but he wouldn’t be able to leave his side, either. "Please be well, Adam," he whispers. "Please be well."

*

Adam feels himself being drawn to the voice, to the child. Its very voice pulls him to it. He sees an infant, barely formed, writhing and thrashing in agony. He hears it call to him, telling him, "It burns...Why do you torture me? Make it stop."

Adam can’t make sense of what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling, but he can’t turn his back on the infant. He senses its helplessness and its need for his protection. The closer he comes to it, the more Adam feels connected with it.

When he’s standing right in front of it, words cross soundlessly between them: _Who are you? What are you? Where is here?_ Adam thinks, and he's surprised the first time he hears his thoughts answered in the infant’s voice.

 __

 _I am you, but not. I am who I am, and the last hope for this world._

Adam wants to scream at the impossibility of what’s happening. He wants to deny the reality of it, to go back and agree with Dr. Peters that it’s all the result of drug induced hallucinations. He wants to, but he can’t. He feels the reality of it as he bends down to touch the partially formed infant before him.

The instant his finger makes contact with the baby’s skin, he feels everything it feels; he knows everything it knows. He’s living two lives at once, in two different worlds, and it freaks the fuck out of him.

He sees one world crumble, the civilization desperately trying to do anything it can to save even a tiny piece of itself, while the other world flourishes. He sees the frantic search for just the right host to carry on their race. He sees their collective consciousness settle on himself, and feels the weight of it.

"But why me?" he asks silently.

"Because it could be you," he hears the baby answer. "It must be you. You are big enough and strong enough, but kind enough to nurture and protect. You have the resources to best guarantee success."

The next part is nearly a whisper in the back of his mind, and Adam has to strain to hear it. "Because I don’t just need you to shelter me as I grow. I took a part of you and combined it with a part of us to make me what I am, so that I may live in your world."

Adam looks at the baby, studies it closely, and he _does_ see something of himself in it, some spark of who he is. He picks the infant up before he even knows what he’s doing and holds it close to him, trying to shelter it through the pain it’s feeling and comfort it as best as he can. As he holds it, Adam feels what it’s going through, and the horror of it blinds him. The burning in its veins, the pain of organs and bones forming, only to be invaded by foreign chemicals; it all rips through him and takes Adam’s breath away.

The tiny being with the same eyes Adam sees every day in the mirror isn't as fragile as it looks, if it can withstand this.

As he kneels on the nothingness of the nightmare that is no longer a nightmare, but his own, new reality, Adam rocks the infant gently in his arms.

*

Sauli holds Adam’s hand again as they wait for the official report from the radiologist. Adam sees the concern on his boyfriend’s face and tries to soothe it. He understands now; he feels a certain serenity in the situation that he can’t explain until he and Sauli are truly alone. Just as he starts to tell Sauli enough to help him calm down, they’re interrupted by a team of doctors led by Dr. Peters.

The room is suddenly crowded and confusing. Lights are turned up to full brightness, and Adam feels an instant need to hide himself away from these people. Excited chatter that’s couched in the incomprehensible language of medicine is thrown Adam’s way, and he feels like nothing more than a specimen under a microscope.

Finally, Dr. Peters takes control of the group and tells Adam that something did show up on the scans, something that shouldn’t be there, and surgery to remove it has been scheduled. He hands Adam papers to sign agreeing to not only give permission for the surgery, but also letting them study the pathology of whatever is removed.

The tremor starts slowly in the pit of his stomach, and Adam drops the papers in order to cover it with his hand. He can hear the small voice inside crying, begging for a chance at life in this world. Adam knows he’s worrying Sauli, but he also knows he has to take a stand right now.

Adam does his best to try and be civil to the medical personnel as he tells them he’s not going to be having surgery anytime in the near future, but they keep badgering him with dire predictions and horror scenarios. He wants to escape, he wants to run, and run, and run until he’s as far away from this place as he can get.

Adam tries to tell them that he knows what’s best for himself, but they won’t listen. He wants to leave, he needs to find somewhere safe to sort out whatever's happening to him. He tries to tell them that he’ll be back if he can’t find any other way or if his condition worsens, but they just keep pestering him.

He wants to scream at them to leave him alone with whatever decision he makes, but it’s not his voice he hears raised against them. He hears Sauli’s voice, louder than he’s ever heard it before, shouting, "Stop, everyone!"

Then, in a timbre closer to what Adam’s used to hearing come out of that beautiful mouth, Sauli says, "Adam is awake and aware. He is capable of making his own decisions. I will respect this, and so will you. Now, leave us please, so that he can dress and go home."

Adam is so engrossed in studying the strength in the set of Sauli’s chin that he almost misses Dr. Peters saying, "If you leave, you’ll be doing so against medical guidance," as he walks out the door.

*

Sauli calls for a car while Adam dresses in his own clothes. There’s no dignity in hospital gowns, and Adam feels a little more like himself with each piece he puts on. He’s glad the doctors all left the room; he’s done with exams, and being poked and prodded. He feels a need to protect whatever’s growing inside of him, wants to hide it away, keep it safe.

When the car arrives, Sauli treats Adam like a china doll, guiding him with a firm hand on his elbow and the other pressed against the small of Adam’s back as they walk past the disapproving doctors and the demanding representatives of Adam’s management company. Sauli’s solicitousness continues when he helps Adam into the car, and Adam has to bite back words of reprimand for Sauli. There’ll be enough time for that later, when they’re alone.

When they’re settled, and the driver turns around and asks, "Where to?"

They turn and look at each other with twin questioning looks. Neither one of them had thought this far ahead, and neither had any idea of where to go.

Sauli’s the first to break the silence. "Is there one of your friends that might be willing to let us stay? I do not think it would be wise to return to your home."

"No," Adam says, "management probably has someone on their way to my house right now with insurance wavers and demands for my medical records. With promo coming up, I have to have insurance for appearances and then for the tour. I really don’t think I want them to know what’s going on with me right now."

Sauli doesn’t miss how Adam’s hand protectively covers his belly before Adam continues. "And I don’t really want anyone else to know what’s going on with me, either. This isn’t something most people are gonna like."

"Listen to me, Adam, and listen with you heart. I will accept your word as truth, and you know that. But I’m not the only one who trusts in you. Your mother would also believe what you tell her, and would not doubt you. Perhaps we should go to her, and you can tell us both about what you know."

*

Adam's mother takes them in wholeheartedly, but Adam catches the concern in her eyes that she's trying to mask. It sickens him; he knows his mother isn't one to hide her emotions.

He hears Leila saying something about how she's been worried sick, how she's never seen Adam look so pale, fragile in a way he never, ever has been.

He takes his place on the couch, tucked in between Leila and Sauli, which isn't what he pictured, but he'll have to go with it. Their combined warmth is comforting, but it still manages to put him on edge somehow.

Sauli brushes the tips of his fingers along Adam's arm, tentative and kind. "Please tell us what's going on," he says. "You seem to have found out what has been causing you so much pain."

Adam hesitates. He tried to work out an explanation on his way here, but he can't remember a word of it. Nonsense tumbles out of his mouth for a moment until he can stop himself and find a reasonable place to start.

He tells his mother everything, from his dreams to his pain to passing out the other day, because she's really only heard what the media's been dishing out, which includes plenty of speculation that Adam might have finally found the dark side of fame, and had become an addict.

Realizing this comes close to frightening him. It's as if life as he knows it - the dream he's been chasing for so long that he's held on to so tightly for the past two years - is drifting away for good.

"And, I don't know how it happened," Adam continues, "and I don't know what's going to happen after this...but I think whatever inside me's _alive_."

Both of their jaws drop, and they meet Adam's eyes, neither of them sure if they've heard Adam right.

Adam bites his lip. He can't explain this to anyone who can't just crawl inside his head.

"Adam," Leila whispers, "Adam, how is that possible?"

"I have no idea," Adam murmurs, his hand absentmindedly tracing soothing circles over his belly. "But I know. These nightmares I have...it's like they're sent to me somehow, like they're from some other world, and I'm supposed to-"

By now, Adam notices the questions unspoken between the three of them, and he shuts his mouth before he can say anything else even more ridiculous.

"I’m scared to death, Adam," Leila says, pulling her son into her arms, "but whatever this is, we’ll handle it however you think is best. Tell us what you need, what you want us to do."

Suddenly, Adam feels the weight of all the pressures of the last week; knows now that he has someone to help him carry the burden he wasn’t even aware of until a few hours ago, and the relief almost overwhelms him. He feels like he can finally relax -- just a little bit, but enough to make him realize how tightly he’s been wound since that first nightmare.

The tears aren’t far from the surface as he sits there between the two people who love him enough to maybe believe what he’s going to tell them, no matter how fucked up it sounds. "I know this sounds crazy -- it feels crazy, and I know it’s true -- but I’ve seen what’s inside of me. I've talked to it, I’ve _held_ it in some way I don’t even understand." And now the tears start falling, marking a silent trail down his face.

Leila and Sauli both try to soothe Adam’s obvious discomfort by telling him they know what he must be going through, but Adam knows they can’t possibly understand when he’s not even sure he knows himself. He _does_ know that he has to get this out in the open now, before his resolve evaporates.

"There’s something growing inside me that’s part me and part something else. I’m not sure what that something else is, but I _am_ sure I want to do everything I can to make sure it has a chance to _be_. I want to protect it; I _need_ to protect it. I have to do everything I can so it can be safe."

Adam takes a shaky breath and wipes the tears from his face before he continues. "I know it’s asking a lot of you two to believe me, but you’re the only people I can trust right now. I’m exhausted after this whole fucking day, and I just really, really want to go to sleep. Maybe in the morning I can try and explain it so it makes more sense, but right now I can’t even think straight."

The next thing he knows, he's in his mother's guest room, wrapped in blankets but still shivering violently. The pain is a constant throb now, and Adam's sure that if his body has to endure this any longer, he'll surely break right in two.

He startles at the click of the opening door, and groans when the back of a warm hand strokes his forehead. He leans in to the contact, and his mind and body are only focused on this stranger's comforting touch.

The hand is gone after a moment, and Adam calls it a simple figment of his imagination, trying his best just to focus on breathing.

Adam's eyes shoot open, and awareness floods him. Sauli's face softens, and he crawls into the bed beside Adam, pulling his body carefully into his arms despite the mountain of blankets he's cocooned in.

Sauli whispers something soft and soothing, and then Adam hears him start to hum as he gently rocks Adam back and forth in his embrace, lulling him into a much-needed sleep.

*

Adam’s dreams start almost immediately, but this time it’s not the normal dreamscape he’s become used to. This time he finds himself holding a beautiful infant, gazing lovingly at its face while Sauli and his mother sit on either side of him, both caught up in the wonder of the baby. They all know this baby will change the world.

Suddenly, the dream changes. Adam’s back inside: inside his head, inside his heart; he’s not sure if he could actually name where he is beyond _inside_.

He sees the infant, and he feels its pain. He holds the child close, trying to give it some measure of the comfort Sauli's giving him. He can feel the baby’s struggle, though. He feels how hard it has to fight to retain its tenuous hold on life.

He feels, rather than hears, the baby begging for more: more room, more nourishment, more of what it needs to live. Adam promises to give it more, invites it to take whatever it needs from him, and he immediately regrets it as he’s hit by the most intense pain he’s ever felt. He can feel every cell in his body screaming in agony as the infant takes his strength, takes his sight and hearing and thoughts, takes his very breath.

The baby seems to feel his pain, and quickly backs off, letting Adam know that it has enough for now. It’s a delicate balance they have to achieve, one that grants both of them the best chance of survival, yet causes the least amount of suffering for either of them.

Adam feels himself slipping back into a happier dream as he holds the infant in his arms, much like Sauli still holds him.

*

Adam's babbling now, still caught in a deep sleep, dreams still holding him. He whispers apologies and endearments, tongue tripping over the simplest of words. He's wriggled himself free from his blankets, his fingers twitch and stretch, and through it all, he keeps mumbling, whispering, _pleading_.

Sauli tenderly squeezes Adam's hand, searching his face. "Adam," he says, an edge to the softness in his tone, "Adam, wake up, you have to wake up."

Adam's eyes open slightly, but Sauli knows he's not quite back yet.

Only seconds later, recognition floods his eyes, and he pulls Sauli into his arms, carefully avoiding his own belly. He's shaking a little, and Sauli wants to ask what he can do to help, though he knows that little can be done.

"I wish you could see him," Adam says, and he realizes that's not exactly right, since he doesn't know the baby's sex - if the baby even has a sex at all - though he knows it's easier to think of the infant as a _he_ as opposed to an _it_. "Honey, I wish you could see him, he's beautiful. I don't know what - _who_ \- he is, but he's so _beautiful_."

"Adam, of course he is beautiful," Sauli returns. Adam silently thanks him for not questioning his choice of words. "He is a part of _you_."

Adam leans in to kiss the top of his head in a much louder display of gratitude.

He spends the remainder of the night in a restless attempt to find a comfortable position. Each time he moves, Sauli’s there with a warm touch or a soothing sound to help him relax. Adam rubs his belly, trying to comfort the baby while Sauli strokes the small of Adam’s back.

The warmth and the pressure in just the right spot helps Adam’s body to decompress, but his mind can’t settle, can’t find a way to grasp the enormity of what’s happening. He needs a plan, but without knowing what obstacles might present themselves, he doesn’t know what to plan for.

Early morning hours find him still worrying about everything that’s unknowable: how will he keep this baby safe; will he need medical care; how the fuck is the baby supposed to be born? His tired mind can almost grasp the concept of parts of himself - be it his heart, his soul, or his body - being combined with parts of something else to start this life that's growing in his belly. He can already feel the baby growing, fighting to find more room, room that Adam’s body wasn’t designed to provide. And that thought brings him full circle, right back to worrying about how the hell he’s going to be able to bring this baby into the world.

He falls into a fretful sleep, visions of horror movies playing through his dreams. He tosses and turns, until a small flutter deep within his body sends out ripples of calming thoughts. Some part of his exhausted mind recognizes that it’s the baby, _his_ baby, silently telling him that things will work out as well as they can; that worrying about what hasn’t yet happened will do no good.

With the combined comfort of Sauli and his baby, feeling their united and unconditional support both within and without, Adam finally drifts into a peaceful sleep just as dawn begins to brighten the horizon.

*

Adam’s slow to wake up, enjoying the warmth of the covers and the first real sleep he’s had in a week. He can tell by the brightness of the sunlight trying to peek in through the blinds that it’s well past morning, but he feels like he could sleep forever. He can’t quite put his finger on what pulled him from such a welcome rest, and tries to burrow under the warm blankets in an attempt to recapture it.

But just as he’s back at that groggy, drifting stage that comes when he’s about to give himself up to dreams, he feels something move, something that’s both foreign and integrated so deeply in a primal, instinctual part of his brain that he sits up immediately. He feels the fluttering inside of him continue, growing stronger each second. His hands go to his belly, covering the spot where he knows the baby’s growing, and he’s surprised to find that there’s a much larger spot to cover now.

The movement of the baby brings unexpected tears to his eyes. Somehow everything is more clear now, more real. He has a life inside of him, a part of him, but separate from him. His baby is growing, his baby is moving!

Adam’s overcome with the wonder and joy of the moment, and he feels a need to share it with the people he loves. He carefully gets up and finds clothes for the day, putting on a pair of old sweats that his mom still keeps for him and a loose tee. Comfort is going to be the watchword for the day.

Walking down the stairs to the kitchen, Adam rubs his slightly swollen belly and is rewarded with an answering kick from the baby. His smile is bright enough to light all of Los Angeles on the darkest of nights as he enters the room he knows Sauli and Leila will be sharing coffee in.

But as soon as he sees the looks on their faces, Adam knows everything isn’t sunshine and lollipops. Leila’s on the phone -- Adam’s phone, from the looks of it -- and the conversation sounds very animated. When the two of them notice Adam walking into the room, Sauli immediately motions him to keep quiet.

Adam hears Leila say, "He needs his rest, and I’m not going to wake him, so this conversation is over," before she hits the end button.

"What’s that all about?" Adam asks as he takes a cup out of the cupboard to make some tea.

"It is your management company," Sauli tells him, getting up to get a teabag, while Leila heats the water. "They have been calling your phone all morning looking for you. Your mother has been handling them wonderfully, but they are growing more demanding."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Adam says before adding a quick _Sorry, Mom_. "I had more PR to do yesterday and this morning, and I completely forgot. I wonder what excuse they gave for me missing things."

"Maybe you’d better sit down," Leila tells him, and Adam really doesn’t like where this is going.

"Your management's been using the exhaustion line, which is true, even if it’s not completely right, but you know what people think when they hear that."

Yeah, Adam knows what people think, the same thing he’s always thought when he heard someone was ‘suffering from exhaustion’: rehab. "Shit, this can’t be good, can it?"

"There is more, Adam," Sauli tells him. "There was a blind item in one of the gossip blogs today. Maybe you should look at it before someone asks you about it."

Adam pulls Leila’s laptop closer, so he can see the screen. What he reads makes him angry as hell, even if it is the same conclusion he would have come to about anyone else.

 __

 _Rumor has it that a well known AI runner-up and pop star wannabe, who collapsed after a television appearance and had to be rushed to the hospital, has missed two interviews yesterday and one more this morning. His representatives are saying it’s all due to exhaustion, but we heard he checked himself out of the hospital and refused medical advice. We can only hope he’s not determined to take the Amy Winehouse path._

"Wonderful, just fucking wonderful," Adam says, taking a sip of the hot tea. "I can’t even defend myself; this shit's safer for everyone to believe than the truth."

"There may be a way around some of it. I might have a few ideas," Leila tells him, pulling Adam into a hug. Adam feels torn between retreating to the time of his life when he absolutely knew his mother could make anything better, and moving forward to being the person who would do anything to protect the life that’s growing inside of him.

*

Adam tells Sauli that everything seems to be ready and hands him his phone. Sauli presses the record button, and everything goes according to plan. When they sit down together to review the video, Adam thinks it looks better than he’d expected it to.

The first thing they see is Adam sitting in bed, his makeup done well enough to hide the dark circles under his eyes, but a little bit of red shading added around his nose to make it look like he has the sniffles.

"First, I want to thank everyone who’s been sending me tweets asking if I’m okay," Adam starts. "The last week hasn’t been easy for me. I thought it was something I could shake off. Apparently I was wrong. I know some of you were really worried when you heard I passed out after the last interview, and, believe me, I was too." Adam pauses to turn his head away from the camera phone and coughs. It’s not a hard cough; it sounds almost as if he’s trying to suppress it, but it looks real on video.

"Like I said in my tweet, I think I've picked up some kind of virus while doing promo, and it’s been kicking my ass. It seems like whatever it was I picked up affected my endocrine system. When I was in the hospital, it felt like there were a hundred doctors who all had a different idea about what was wrong and how to make it right. It was very confusing, and not at all productive, so I did what anyone would do in that situation." Here, the shot widens out to show Leila standing next to the bed, and Adam reaches his hand out to hold his mother’s hand. "I called my mom. Moms always know what to do, and now we know what we’re dealing with. I promise that we’re doing everything right to make this better, so don’t worry. It just might take a little time. Nobody’s sure how long it’ll take for this to work out of my system, but we’re doing everything possible to make sure it’s as quick as can be."

"But he’s not leaving here until I’m satisfied he’s ready to," Leila adds, giving off the attitude of a fierce mama bear while maintaining a softness in her eyes.

"So, until I can get back on the road, any interviews I do will have to be done from here, over the computer. Mom’s rules, and mom gets mad when you break her rules." Adam smiles up at his mom, then turns his smile to the camera. "I’m being well taken care of, though. I have the best people looking out for me. Say hi, Sauli."

The shot turns to the person doing the recording, and Sauli gives a smile and a wave.

Leila says, "We’re going to make sure he takes the time to take care of himself," and the video ends.

"So, does it look okay?" Adam asks. "We didn’t lie, and hopefully it’ll give us some time to figure out what to do next."

Sauli sits next to Adam and runs his fingers along Adam’s cheek as he tells him, "You looked beautiful, but very ill. Did you send out the tweet first?"

"See for yourself," Adam answers, showing Sauli and Leila his twitter profile.

 __

 _Don't worry. I picked up a nasty virus somewhere, but mom's making sure I take care of myself. :) Thanks for your concern! I love my fans!!_

"I would have put in another exclamation point, but I ran out of room."

Sitting between the people he cares most about in this world, Adam’s eyes go wide, and his hands both go to his belly. "I forgot to tell you. The baby...he’s been moving all day."

*

Adam's dreams return that night, though they're different this time, different from the physical torture he still feels in his sleep. In fact, the pain is completely gone. He's at peace in silence and warmth, until his eyes are opened to the nightmare world.

He hears a far off cry, and the sound makes his chest tighten and breath hitch, because he _knows_ what - who - is making it. Quietly, inwardly, he panics.

He tries to run toward the source of the sound, toward the baby - _his_ baby, he reminds himself, though that's still not quite right - but his feet are frozen. His throat is closed, his lips are locked tight, and the cries become higher, louder, more desperate.

It's worse than any affliction, any pain, any illness he's ever had, this helplessness. It's worse than the uncertainty of the future, it's worse than having the world label him as an addict. It's worse than anything he's ever known, but it's only a dream.

He hopes.

*

The next morning, it's all he can do to focus on breathing right. His mind is cluttered and stressed, his body's reaching it's limit.

Sauli brushes Adam's hair back, brushes a fingertip across his pale, pale skin, and shivers. He finds Adam's eyes, and asks how they can still hold so much warmth and light with all the shit he's going through.

He urges Adam to stay in bed as much as possible, since it's getting harder and harder for him to walk straight, and he's not going to leave any possibility of Adam getting hurt. Likewise, he stays with Adam for much of the day.

Adam has always hated being cooped up in bed all day, though before, being stuck in bed just meant he was sick, and he always knew that as long as he took care of himself and let his body rest, he'd be better in no time. This baby's no common cold.

Sauli lays the back of his hand against Adam's forehead, much like he'd done after that first night. Through the pleasant haze his mind has created to keep the pain at bay, Adam hears Sauli tell him that he's burning up, that he's getting worse, that he needs to get to a hospital.

But a hospital would mean tests and needles and bright lights. A hospital would mean losing the baby.

"No." He's not sure how he says it, how loud or how forceful, but he swears he hears Sauli's breath catch, perhaps in fear, perhaps in desperation.

"Adam, please," Sauli murmurs, or maybe he's shouting; Adam can't tell.

Adam's body tenses up defiantly. It's as if the baby's taken over Adam's conscience, created a mask for his pain so Adam doesn't know how truly ill he's become. It's the baby that's making these decisions, it's the baby that's refusing Sauli's pleas.

It's like he's been drugged, like he's caught in the eye of the storm, trying to find a way to get out without getting swept up in the darkness and the pain again.

"No," he whispers again, and he can't hear himself, but he feels his mouth move. "No, no, no, no!"

There's a dead silence, and Adam feels the pain creeping back, feels the storm swallow him again.

Sauli's hand smooths back his hair, and he feels Sauli lay a cool damp cloth over his head. He comes back to himself just as Sauli leaves the room.

Adam wants to call Sauli back and kiss away the the lines of concern that are being slowly etched in his face. He wants to tell Sauli that he knows what he’s doing and everything will be okay in the end, but he can’t. He has no idea if what he’s doing is the right thing, if it’s even a possible thing. He only knows that he feels a compulsion to protect his baby at all costs, no matter how high those costs are.

Adam knows one of the costs is the undue worry and strain he’s causing for Sauli. Under any other circumstances he would never be able to accept putting his boyfriend through this much stress. This realization hits him hard. How many of his decisions have been made with a clear mind, he wonders. How much has the baby’s will has been masquerading as Adam’s own love and concern for the child growing inside of him? Adam’s not sure of anything right now. He can’t trust his own thoughts to be his and only his. He has to find a way to find the truth, and the only way he can see is talking to the baby himself.

Closing his eyes, Adam wills his mind to still, to listen quietly for the voice of the baby. He’s never tried to make contact with him before. It’s always been the baby reaching out for him. Adam feels his baby’s heartbeat and focuses on that. He lets his mind drift where it will, knowing that the hypnotic rhythm is pulling him towards his child.

When he feels everything go silent and still, Adam opens his inner eyes, and sees the baby. It’s not the healthy, happy baby of his dreams, though. The baby has a drawn, pained look similar to the one Adam’s seen on his own face lately. The dark shadows under the infants eyes look exactly like Adam’s.

It dawns on Adam then. He knows that his baby has been suffering every bit as much as he has through this whole thing, maybe even more. The baby has been blocking some of his pain, keeping the totality of it from him. But as much as he’s wanted to protect this new life, he’s sure he hasn’t been able to keep him from feeling the full extent of his painful existence.

Adam picks up the baby and holds him close, one arm protectively cradling him while the other hand touches the delicate skin of the infant’s face. Adam gently rubs over the just-forming hair, marveling at its softness as his child looks up at him. The pain he sees in the tiny face is enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Why didn’t you tell me?" he asks. "Why did you keep me from knowing what you were going through?"

"You would have ended it if you'd known," his baby answers him. "You wouldn’t have given me the chance to try to be."

"Is there any way this can work?" Adam asks, knowing the unborn child has more answers than he does. "I want you to be strong and grow. I want you to be happy and healthy. I want to help you learn who you are and be happy with yourself. I want to watch you learn. I want to see you smile. I’ve never seen what your smile looks like. I’ve only seen you in pain. You can’t live with this much pain. It’s taking too much from you."

And Adam notes that while the baby seems to have grown quite a bit, it has the withered look of a tree that grows alone on a windy prairie: bent and bowed by the elements.

Adam can’t stand to see his baby suffer like this. He looks so tiny and fragile, his skin almost translucent. As Adam looks in his child’s eyes a wave of pain crosses between them, and this time the baby doesn’t block the full impact from Adam’s senses. Adam feels his muscles and nerves scream with the intensity, and he wonders if he’s screaming on the outside.

*

Leila and Sauli run to the guestroom when they hear Adam scream. They’ve been discussing how quickly his health is deteriorating and how best to get him to agree to getting medical help. They both know how much this baby means to him, but they also know that everything about this impossible situation is unseeable and unknowable.

Leila feels her son’s head, and is shocked at how high his fever has climbed. Sauli calls to him, "Adam? Can you hear me Adam?" but there’s no response. Adam seems to be caught in the delirium of pyrexia, and their attempts to rouse him are unrewarded. When Leila lifts her son’s arm and lets go, it falls limply back to the bed.

"I think it’s time to do something more," Sauli tells Leila. "It does not matter if he likes it or not, I will not lose him."

*

Adam curls around the baby, trying to shield it from the onslaught of pain, but wave after wave hit him until it feels as if it’s all he knows and all he’s ever known. He bears it as stoically as he can, not wanting his child to feel the need to take it upon himself again. He mind cries for all the suffering his baby has gone through. If he can’t stand it for this short time, how has his tiny baby been able to survive it for this long?

Adam feels his body going rigid with hurting, and still he would not turn this burden over to the infant, but it seems his baby can’t stand to see him suffer anymore than Adam wants to see his child suffer. He hears the tiny voice he’s come to love in the short time he’s been able to hear it say, "Enough."

One word is all it takes, and the pain backs off to a tolerable level. Adam can breathe again. He can move again, and he looks down at his baby’s beautiful face only to see that now it’s twisted in pain. His heart cries at the bravery of the tiny being in his arms, and he wants nothing more than to take it all back again, but he knows that if he does that, neither one of them will survive. His body wouldn’t be able to endure the avalanche of aching.

*

Just as Leila picks up the phone to call for help, Adam’s body seems to respond to some invisible healing force. His fever begins to decline, and his breathing evens out somewhat.

Sauli motions for Adam’s mother to hold off on making the call and tells her, "He looks to be coming back."

*

Adam feels his tiny baby shudder in his arms, and it looks up at him with glazed eyes. His breathing is shallow as his tiny lungs struggle to fill time after time. Adam wants to scream at any and all deities he knows to give his baby one more chance. His heart breaks at the knowledge that he isn’t strong enough to give it what it needs, and he tries to give what comfort he can to his child.

Adam sends all the love he can to his baby, all the dreams and hopes he’d found for it in the short time he’d had to find them. He surrounds the small body in positivity as he feels the diminutive being surrender to the pain that’s become too much for it. His tears fall freely as his baby takes one last breath and looks up at him and smiles.

*

"Adam? Adam?"

The voice is so far off, but Adam can feel Sauli's breath against his ear. His mind starts spinning again, and his body is free from the pain he's been plagued with for this past week.

When Adam finally comes to, he realizes that can only mean one thing.

His eyes shoot open, and his hand flies to his belly. It's as if nothing's happened, as if the past week had been some twisted hallucination playing out right before his eyes and within his head, through every cell and nerve and bone. He's returned to his normal weight, and he's perfectly content in a way he couldn't have been as of late with his body working so hard to accomadate the baby.

The baby.

 _His_ baby.

Adam sees a sparkle of hope in Sauli's searching, pleading eyes, and hates that he's the one who kills it when he says, "He's gone."

*

"I don't understand it. Any of it." Adam's head falls back against Sauli's shoulder as Sauli rocks him back and forth in his arms. "I didn't know how everything was going to happen, but I wanted it all. Wanted _him_. So bad..."

Adam murmurs something then, something about how he wasn't strong enough, about how he failed, about how he'd face a lifetime of a torture increased tenfold if it would mean that the baby - _his_ baby - could live.

Sauli shushes him, kisses his ear. "You did all you could," he whispers. "Some things are just not meant to be."

And maybe it doesn't end there; maybe that's where it begins, but Adam's eyes are trained on the stunning honesty he sees in Sauli's own, and right then, he begins to develop a plan to face the world.

 


End file.
